Day 2 - A discovery of ouch.

07:50
Regular readers of this blog will recall that my body is riddled with arthritis. Medical professionals have, in the past, used the phrase, “joints of a 70 year old,” and that was 10 years ago. For the last 4 years, I’ve taken an utterly transformative medication called Humira - which has largely confined the arthritic flare ups to the past. Occasionally though, just occasionally, I still experience them. Bugger me sideways if today isn’t one of them. I woke during the night at around 04:00, and hobbled to the toilet for a pee. Very difficult to put weight on my left foot, which is experiencing severe pain due to something called Cuboid Syndrome. It will pass, for sure - but the question is how quickly. This could well scupper my / our plans for today and tonight. Fucksticks.

17:20
Today has been a success. After a late arrival, we were never planning to do too much, and we’ve achieved that goal in fairly spectacular fashion. We mooch for a couple of hours in the apartment, before heading out to do some urgent grocery shopping. There’s a much bigger supermarket on the way to Betina, which is on Murter island, across the water from us. We’ll maybe head over there at some point, but the small supermarket near the bridge will do us for today’s requirements. We seek only the traditional elements of a festival shopping list - bread, cheese, salami, water, beer, wine, crisps and toilet roll. We’ll head back there in a couple of days to restock, and the shopping list will be at least 95% the same.

Our place has beautiful views across the water. We have such wonderful views because our apartment is up quite a steep hill. Walking down it to the town centre was one thing. Walking back up it laden with festival supplies is quite another.

Back at the apartment, we congratulate ourselves on a job well done with a beer, followed by another. After my less than great sleep, I’m dozy, so put my head down for a spectacular hour’s nap. By the time I wake up, it’s almost time to head out again. We’re into a good rhythm.

We’ve eaten only snacks since we left the house yesterday, and are ready for a feed. As we walk out of our apartment, we’re met by a wall of dry heat. The temperature's up in the mid to late 30s all week, so we need to get used to it. We head back down the still startlingly steep hill to Gina’s, a konoba (traditional tavern) on the waterfront that Vicki has visited on several occasions. A glass of Malvacija for me, and we both have a bowl of spaghetti alla vongole. At its closest, Croatia is all of 5 miles from the Italian border, and it’s self-evident from some of the shared styles of cuisine. The pasta is just what we need - tasty ballast. The wine is lovely. I remember trying a few local wines when we visited 11 years ago, but I was much more of a beer drinker back then. I’ll try more of the indigenous wines while I’m here this time.

Wandering towards the supermarket, we bump into Emma and Howard. A sprawling metropolis, Tisno is not. It transpires their apartment is two doors down from us on the high road. We’re all planning to head up to the site in a couple of hours, so we head back towards the instant coolness of our apartments. I decide a pool dip is in order. Few of the apartment complexes here have a pool attached, but Vicki and I fancied having the option. The pool’s lovely. Cool, but not cold. Refreshing, but not distressing. I air-dry in the shade, and my temperature falls quickly…

23:50
Our first foray up to the festival site. Vicki and I take the train - it’s a little diesel engined half car/half train affair. It’s been a fixture of festivals at the Garden Resort in Tisno for decades. The driver tells us that it’s almost died a death recently. He alleges that younger festival goers don’t care about fun, they only care about how they look. As a result, they prefer Uber to an open sided train type experience. More fool them IMO.

Walking into the site brings back floods of memories - some of them razor sharp, some of them less than crystal clear. We head down to the Beach Stage, and it is HEAVING. Way too busy for our tastes. Happily, the sound system is amazing, and we settle down 30m up the beach. It is HOT. Around 36-37C today, and even at 20:00 it feels every degree of it. We’re quickly covered in a glossy sheen of sweat. The music is amazing though, so we block out thoughts of dehydration.

Around 21:00, some friends start to appear. It’s such a cool place to hang out - there’s honestly nowhere like it I can imagine. There are shades of late ‘90s Ibiza, but even that isn’t quite right.

My foot is still giving me moderate to rough vibes, so I unilaterally but sensibly decide to give the all-nighter at Barbarella’s a miss. Around 23:45, the rest of the gang join a queue for a shuttle bus up to the club, while I do my damnedest to wait for the same train service back to Tisno. After 10 minutes, it’s clear it’s not gonna help me out, so I jump in an Uber. I feel slightly ashamed, but pat myself on the back. Confused? Yeah - me too.Read more